


oh god it's wonderful to love you so much

by wildwoods



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 00:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10424820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwoods/pseuds/wildwoods
Summary: Ron goes to the market, and makes a decision.





	

Heavy, thick clouds low along the horizon meant the cold front that had been predicted for days had come through. The light shining through the window washed everything in grey, and looking down on the street Ron could see the wind blowing the dead leaves, that had fallen from the trees months ago, in all directions. Fall had finally turned to winter and standing near the window he could feel the chill already. He didn’t want to go outside. Over in the bed still asleep Chuck had rolled over and wrapped the comforter around himself, and Ron thought of him last night, sated and loose limbed, sighing into Ron’s neck “French toast tomorrow”, before promptly falling asleep. Even though Chuck wasn’t awake, Ron had made a promise and they were out of eggs, so bed would have to wait. 

At the front door Ron pulled his boots from the shared pile of shoes that they could never keep tidy and pulled his duffle coat over the faded UCLA jumper he had stolen from Chuck years before they moved in together, maybe even before they started dating. Locking the apartment door and walking down the two flights of stairs, Ron thought of the sweet, soft look on Chuck’s face the first time he saw Ron wearing it. It made him smile, despite himself, knowing how loved he was and how long it had been. 

Walking onto the sidewalk Ron pulled a cigarette from the packet that lived in his coat pocket and deftly lit one in the wind. It was as cold out as he expected but, between the day’s first cigarette and how good last night had been, Ron was content in a way he rarely allowed himself to be. He felt it in the looseness of his stride as he walked up the hill towards the farmer’s market, a satisfying ache that him think how Chuck had looked beneath him, tan body pushed down onto their white sheets, how gentle his eyes were when they opened, when Ron said “look at me”, how he pulled Ron closer to him and how his firm hands felt on Ron’s waist. Now he heard his breath get deeper, but he knew, looking at the dogs on the leashes jumping to puddles caused by last night’s rain and the old couple ten feet in front of him, it was only because of the incline of the hill. Still satisfied, he kept on walking. 

Closer to the market there was a crowd starting to form, people with their kids all dressed in raincoats and gumboots, more dogs, young friends smoking and drinking coffee to the sides. At the entrance he was felt warm from the all the people so close, and normally he hated crowds, would do anything to be alone or just with Chuck, but today he didn’t care. He made his way to Sophia who sold eggs, where she had sat at the same stall each Sunday for longer than he’d been alive. Her and her husband owned a farm south of the city and each Sunday he loaded their van up with cartons and cartons of eggs and then drove her to the market. She loved it, and when Chuck was with him he would ask about their chickens and their dogs and how her grandchildren who lived in Santa Monica were doing at school, calling her Mrs Attilio and making her smile. Sophia always gave Chuck extra eggs, because “he’s such a good young man,” and Chuck would blush while Ron silently nodded in agreement. 

She waved and smiled as Ron got closer and immediately after saying hello asked “where is your good young man?”  
“Sleeping, he was up late finishing a paper.” When Chuck had finished Ron pulled him from the desk and said “let me take care of you” against his lips as he dragged him to bed, and then Ron had gone on to insure Chuck would sleep all day, but Sophia didn’t need to know that.  
“On a Saturday night? He works too hard…”

When they had met Chuck was in his first year of teaching kindergarten and in the early days of their relationship Ron would come home from Chuck’s apartment, which was filled with projects for his classroom, with glitter in his hair or in his socks. Now he was in final year of studying for his Master of Arts in Special Education, and while Ron agreed with Sophia he couldn’t help but smile proudly.

Sophia chatted away as she put the eggs, as well as some chocolate for Chuck in reward for his all his hard work, into a brown paper back and sent Ron off with the promise not to steal the chocolate for himself, somehow sensing his sweet tooth. 

Ron walked through the markets, buying pomegranates, blood oranges, grapefruits and fresh jam-filled donuts until his bag was heavy and full. At the exit was a flower stall selling bouquets of yarrow and dahlias and Queen Anne’s Lace, and past the stall walking away he saw Joe and David, who were friends of Chuck’s, too far to call out to but close enough that Ron could heard them bickering. They were holding hands, so it was fine for now. Hopefully Joe wouldn’t end up on their couch tonight, eating all of Ron’s ice cream while complaining about the man he had decided to marry. Now that Ron thought about it he realized Joe hadn’t been kicked out by David in almost a year, and as they walked further away he saw David press a sweet kiss to Joe’s temple. Ron kissed Chuck like that late at night when he had been reading for too long and Ron wanted him to come to bed, or early in the morning when Chuck shuffled quietly around the kitchen, non-verbal before a cup of coffee, and Ron had to go to work. Thinking about the shy smile Chuck gave him when Ron pulled back from kissing him, Ron bought some flowers.

Walking back down the hill Ron realized he didn’t know if they owned a vase, but he knew Chuck would like how the flowers would brighten up their bedroom in the cool winter light. Even if the bouquet sat sideways on the dresser he’d be happy. Turning the corner Ron saw a jewelry store across the street that he normally never paid any attention to. Maybe they sold vases. There was an open sign on the door, so Ron crossed the street and walked inside. 

The store was a warm relief from the cold air and Ron saw vases on the back wall behind where the shop assistant was standing. He looked down at a silver ring inside the display cabinet.  
“May I help you?”  
“Yes, I need a…”

He was going home to give his boyfriend a bouquet of bright orange flowers and would then make him French toast, and was struck suddenly by the knowledge that he’d being doing the same thing every Sunday for the rest of his life. He would be walking up that hill to the farmer’s market until he was older that Sophia, he’d be pulling Chuck away from his work until they retired. He’d be kissing him day until he died. He made a decision.  
“I’d like to buy a ring.”

Ten minutes later Ron was back outside lighting another cigarette, walking home, more certain than he’d ever been in his life. The wind had died down and the sun was shining through the clouds. If the weather held maybe later they’d walk down to the beach, or to the cinema and see a cheesy rom-com that Chuck would never admit to wanting to watch. Maybe they’d just spend the whole day in bed. Ron finished his cigarette and opened the apartment door, taking the stairs two at a time, trying not the jostle the eggs, the fruit and flowers and the ring he was carrying. He didn’t know why he was rushing; they had the rest of their lives.

So at their door Ron stopped to catch his breath and tried to be patient as he put the key in the lock. Chuck was just on the other side, most likely still sleeping, warm and soft and waiting for him. 

Ron smiled and turned the key.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been reading too much Frank O'Hara. Title from the poem 'Steps'. I'm also on [tumblr](https://onlythenuns.tumblr.com), come say hey.


End file.
